It Doesn't Scare Me
by At the End of Dreaming
Summary: Power Rangers RPM. Ziggy tries to explain why it's easy to write a song to Dillon. Dillon just wants to hear Ziggy sing. Dillon/Ziggy slash.


I wrote this story as a response to a fanfiction prompt on dillon_ziggy at Livejournal. It is a fluff fic, which enterains the ideas that Ziggy can cook and sing. It also very briefly explores one side effect of someone like Ziggy, who isn't built to handle the morpher might go through in response. I do not own Power Rangers RPM or anything related to it or the Power Rangers franchise. I own the song though.

**It Doesn't Scare Me**

Dillon doesn't sleep. It was a fact everyone pretty much knew. Doctor K said it was because of his up-grades. Ziggy said it was because of the yellow lollipops he inhaled everyday.

What most of the rangers didn't know was that Ziggy didn't either. Or at least, not since he had become a ranger himself. After that Dillon usually found him wandering The Garage, humming to himself. The first sleepless night both Dillon and Ziggy had shrugged it off. The second night both of them had been slightly worried but hadn't said anything.

The third night Ziggy had placed the problem by complaining that he didn't know how the other rangers could sleep with all the excess energy from the morphers running through their bodies. Dillon had snorted and wondered out loud if he no longer counted. Ziggy had replied in his usual 'Of course not Dillon! Your problem is completely with the sugar!'

It had been a full week before the nonsleeping and monster attacks and training had worn away the Ranger Green energy enough for Ziggy to sleep. Ziggy was still bound with bots of insomnia intermingled with brief periods of sleep.

And that was exactly why he wasn't at all surprised to hear Ziggy's soft voice drifting out from the kitchen that night, too soft to make the words out but defiantly there.

He entered the kitchen silently, staring at the younger man slowly rolling dough between his hands. Ziggy's voice drifted over to him.

"_It doesn't scare me."_

He blinked in surprise. Ziggy was singing? Ziggy _could_ sing? He paused to listen and had to admit Ziggy was…good. His voice was soft and clear with a melodic beauty that came only from born talent, the kind that couldn't be learned or forced in a classroom.

He leaned back against the wall and watched his friend, starting to enjoy the gentle sound of his voice.

"_Take my hand._

_Put your faith in me._

_And I will lead you home,_

_Out of your apathy!"_

He raised his hands and applauded softly. Ziggy jerked; dropping the ball of dough he was holding and spinning to face him. "Jesus, Dillon! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Ziggy whined. "And you made me ruin the frick'n dough."

He toned out the complaints, preferring to watch the green ranger reach down and grab the ball before throwing it calmly over his shoulder into the waste bin. He didn't seem very broken up about its loss.

"You," he said calmly. "Are covered in flour."

Ziggy looked up at him, dark eyes wide. There was flour smeared against his cheek and near his hairline where he had obviously rubbed his dough covered hands. The sight caused him to grin in amusement. Ziggy appeared to think about it for a minute than shrugged.

"Ain't nothing worth doing," Ziggy said. "If you don't get your hands dirty. That's my motto. Or will be, if I ever have a motto. Actually, you know what, that's not a very good motto. There's got to be something better…"

Dillon watched him in amusement as he trailed off, muttering to himself. He walked forward and leaned against the counter, continuing to watch as Ziggy continued to talk and talk and talk, all the while rolling more dough into balls and pressing them down onto the pan in front of him.

He waited till Ziggy had placed the sheet into the oven to ask. "You can sing?"

Ziggy froze, looking at him like a deer in the headlights. Slowly he started to blush. Ducking his head, he asked in a meek voice. "You heard that?"

He nodded. "Oh yeah. It's nice. What song was that?"

Ziggy, if possible blushed even more. Dillon wondered if it was from the praise or the question. "Um, ah, I call it 'It Doesn't Scare Me'." Ziggy explained. He raised his head to stare Dillon in the eye. "I made it."

He stopped. "You did?" he asked. Ziggy nodded. "How the hell do you make a song?" he asked.

Ziggy grinned. "Oh it's simple, if it means something to you. You just have to know what you want it to say. Really it's just like speaking but you got a beat to listen to. It's not that hard. I'm sure you could do it."

Dillon gave the boy a disbelieving look. "Yeah right. If it was easy, do you know how many people would be singing right now?" he asked sarcastically. Ziggy blinked. "Um…a lot?" he answered uncertainly.

"Make it sound like an answer Ziggy. Not a question." He corrected. Ziggy nodded more confidently. "A lot." He repeated.

Dillon shook his head. "You're impossible." He told his friend. Ziggy grinned. "I try."

"Let's hear it." He said. Ziggy blinked at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"You're song Ziggy." Dillon replied. "Let's hear it."

Ziggy started to laugh nervously. "Oh that's okay. It's not that good really. And it's not like I can actually sing. In fact, maybe we should forget this conversation happened, hm? Yeah that's a good idea. Besides, my cookies are going to burn." He stated, moving to check the items in the oven.

Dillon rolled his eyes and stood. He approached his friend and waited for him to turn around before he pushed. "I don't care about the stupid cookies, Ziggy. I want to hear your song." He smirked. "Who knows, it might inspire me."

Ziggy watched him for a minute apprehensively before he took a deep breath. "Alright." He agreed. "But I'm warning you. It sucks."

He stepped back, watching as his friend closed his eyes and took another deep breath before he started to sing.

"_Do you ever think about_

_The life you're living?_

_The ups and downs_

_And turn abouts_

_And how you're going no where?_

_Try not to frown_

_As you think back_

_To the life you don't know._

_Look at me and let me guide you home._

_Cause I see past_

_What you're putting out_

_And it doesn't scare me._

_No, no, no…_

_I've spent my live_

_Unsure about_

_Everything I've been doing._

_And now I'm here_

_Wondering to myself_

_Would you approve?_

_Look at me and let me guide you home._

_Cause I see past_

_What you're putting out_

_And it doesn't scare me._

_No, no, no…_

_It doesn't scare me._

_Take my hand_

_Put you're faith in me_

_And I will guide you home_

_Out of your apathy!_

_You don't scare me!_

_Look at me and let me guide you home_

_Cause I see past_

_What you're putting out_

_And it doesn't scare me._

_No, no, no…_

_It doesn't scare me…_

_No…_

_You don't scare me…"_

Ziggy's eyes slid open to stare at him when he finished, memories slowly leaving the depths of his eyes as he focused on the present. Dillon watched him for a long moment before asking, "The life I don't know?"

Ziggy flinched slightly when he heard the line from his song and laughed nervously again. "Uh, ah. I wrote this one a while ago. I actually thought up the chorus on our way to Corinth."

Dillon thought about it for a moment before he stepped closer to Ziggy, right into his face. "So that song's about us?" he asked.

Ziggy laughed, trying to grin playfully. "Maybe." He answered in a joking tone.

Dillon realized the conversation could go in two directions. They could laugh it off and put it behind them or they could both get really tense and all worked up. Dillon decided he didn't like either of those options. So he took the other path, one they had both silently started to forge every night but had both been too afraid to walk.

He leaned down quickly and pressed his lips on Ziggy's. He felt Ziggy freeze and could see through slanted eyes Ziggy's own dark eyes go wide. Just as he was about to pull back Ziggy leaned up, pressing back just slightly.

That made it a kiss.

He stepped even closer, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist and drawing him closer still. Ziggy didn't protest, even wrapped his hands around his neck. The kiss was soft, gentle, and unrushed.

When they pulled back, Ziggy's cheeks were pink. "What was that for?" he asked breathlessly, eyes shining.

Dillon shrugged, tightening his hold and Ziggy's lean form. "For being you." He replied.

Ziggy smiled softly before glancing away. "Uh, Dillon. I think the cookies are burning." He whispered, grinning sheepishly. That only made him kiss him again. Forget the cookies. They could burn.


End file.
